Too Far
by AwesomeMango7
Summary: Rick and Morty get into a fight, and Rick says something he doesn’t mean. Morty is hurt, and Rick doesn’t know how to say he’s sorry. (Rick x Morty!)


**_Authors note: THIS CONTAINS RICK X MORTY. Please, if you don't like that, I recommend exiting out of this fanfic. However, if you ship the two, get all cozy wherever you are and read away. Hope you enjoy!_**

"RICK! I-I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE YOU!" Morty yelled. Once again, his insane grandfather had almost gotten them both killed on an adventure. An adventure Morty hadn't even wanted to go on, and had, for once, correctly predicted what was going to happen before it happened.

Rick wanted to steal some kind of crystal powder, which was located in the middle of a bank, surrounded by alien guards that looked like a freaky mix between spiders and humans (it gives a whole new perspective to "Spider-man"). It was apparently the life source of the whole civilization that lived on that planet. The security was higher than both Rick and Morty had ever seen before, and Rick had been getting a little cocky as of recently.

Morty didn't know how a pile of dust could keep a whole civilization alive, but he knew for a fact that him and Rick wouldn't be able to steal it. There were just too many guards and too many booby-traps. Rick was biting off more than the two of them could chew, yet he seemed completely oblivious to it.

Morty even voiced his thoughts to his cocky grandfather, and continued making points against it the whole time up until the actual plan was in action, but he still didn't change his mind or even listen to him.

As Morty had predicted from the beginning, they got caught, and now they were both locked up in some dungeon under ground. They were told that they were lucky the guards hadn't killed them on sight, and that their trial would be held soon.

"AND Y-YOU CAN'T BLAME THIS ONE ON ME, RICK! I-I-I _TOLD_ YOU IT WASN'T GONNA WORK!" Morty continued yelling. His grandfather was looking down at him with an angered expression. What right did Rick have to be mad at Morty?! "YOU NEVER F-FUCKING LISTEN TO ME, RICK! I-IM NOT ALWAYS WRONG, GODDAMNIT!"

Morty clenched his fists so tightly that his finger nails were drawing blood on his palms, and his knuckles were turning white. He had never been so angry at Rick before in his life. Not when he made him shove seeds up his ass; not when he Cronenberged their original dimension; not even when he ruined his parent's marriage.

This was the one time he was fucking right about something, and Rick still had too much pride in himself to admit it. He'd even had the _gall_ to say it was all Morty's fault as they were mercilessly being dragged off to the dungeons.

He was shaking, and he wanted to punch something—anything! He was so angry that he couldn't even think straight, and he felt like he was gonna pop a blood vessel. FUCKING HELL.

Somewhere deep within him, he knew he was going off the deep end. He knew he was going to far, and most definitely overreacting. But his rage had been building since they started planning, and Morty kept telling him it wasn't going to work. Each time Rick dismissed him it added another drop to his bottled up frustration, and when Rick decided to _blame Morty_ instead of himself for _his_ major fuck-up, the bottle tipped over and now he couldn't stop the words that were flowing out of his mouth like a waterfall. The dam was fucking broken.

"W-WHY CAN'T YOU JUST ADMIT THAT I WAS RIGHT FOR ONCE, HUH?!" Morty takes a step forward, trying to seem intimidating. He was failing, because it was pretty much impossible for Rick to be intimidated by him, but he was so angry that he couldn't care less. "YOU SHOULD HAVE FUCKING LISTENED TO ME—"

"MAYBE I DIDN'T FUCKING LISTEN TO YOU, BECAUSE YOU'RE A SACK OF SHIT, MORTY!" Rick bellowed back at him. After remaining silent for so long, he finally snapped. His eyes went from angry to full-on _livid._ Rick could only restrain himself for so long before he got fed up with being yelled at. It was his turn to take a step forward, looming over Morty like a giant, blood-thirsty monster, and casting a menacing shadow over him.

The teen was so shocked at Rick's sudden outburst that the anger he felt melted instantly and morphed into fear. He felt like he was suddenly shrinking under Rick's fiery stare. Rick had never yelled at him like this before, and his eyes widened with fear as he watched the older man loom over him. "EVER THINK ABOUT THAT, HUH, MORTY?! YOU'RE AS DUMB AS BRICKS, AND I DON'T GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOU! YOUR ONLY PURPOSE IS TO COVER MY FUCKING BRAIN WAVES, AND THAT'S IT! I'VE NEVER GIVEN A SHIT ABOUT YOU, SO WHY WOULD I _EVER_ WANT TO LISTEN TO YOUR STUPID, WHINEY, PREPUBESCENT VOICE?!"

Rick's stutter somehow seemed to vanish in his fit of rage, and with every menacing step he took forward, Morty took one fearful step back. "FUCK YOU, MORTY!" He poked him in the chest with his index finger roughly, making him stumble back a bit. "YOU'RE A PIECE OF USELESS SHIT! I COULD _REPLACE_ YOU IN THE BLINK OF AN EYE!"

Morty forced on a brave face, puffing out his chest a little, trying to cover up the fact that Rick's words cut deeply into his heart and soul. The teen had always tried to cling to any shred of evidence that Rick might care about him, if only a little. If he didn't cling to those little moments when Rick would wake him up in the middle of the night just to watch a marathon of Ballfondlers, or the adventures they went on for the soul purpose of going to get ice cream, then he'd go insane. He needed all of those small moments that made it seem like Rick might care like he needed air.

Morty had no one in this world to care about him. Not Beth, not Summer, not Jerry. No one. However, Rick was a constant, steady figure in his life, and every day he found himself getting more and more attached. Each day, the hellish adventures, and the near death experiences seemed more and more worth it as long as he got to be by Rick's side. He started to even enjoy the adventures. The adrenaline coursing through his veins when they ran away from aliens, the pride inside his chest whenever they got away with something amazing, and the thrill of surviving close calls— it was the best feeling in the universe.

As much as Morty hated to admit it, Rick was his best friend in the whole multi-verse. Not only that, but Morty felt as if he might have... developed... deeper feelings. Feelings that he was most definitely ashamed of, and would only allow himself to think about in the dead of night. But besides that, he knew very well that Rick probably didn't think of him as a friend, or even as family, but he still just wanted to pretend Rick did. But now that Rick had just told him exactly what he though of him, he wasn't sure he could take it.

His favorite person, the only person who actually makes him feel like himself, just elaborated on how much he could care less about him. He told him how _replaceable_ he was to him. His words burned a hole deep inside of his chest, and left him struggling to breathe.

Rick had said all of those things to him before in the past countless times. But he had never said them in such an angry and serious way. All those other times he had said stuff like this never seemed to sink in, because it was durning moments that Rick just seemed a little bit annoyed with him. And usually he said it with a hint of carelessness in his voice, making it seem as if what he was saying wasn't true to what he actually felt.

But now? His voice had vile poison and hatred laced inside of it. Spittle flying from his mouth, and scorching fire in his eyes. It seemed that this time Rick really meant what he said. Every word.

And _never_ had Rick _ever_ threatened to replace him. That's what stung more than anything. It was already something he battled with— the very thought that Rick _could_ actually replace him in the blink of an eye. He really _really_ could if he wanted to. And there was always a constant fear in the back of his mind that Rick might one day find out about his deeper feelings for him, and when or if he did... there was no doubt in his mind that Rick would replace him.

He was disgusting for having such feelings about his grandpa, _of all people._ And Morty wouldn't blame him if he replaced him for that very reason despite how much he feared it.

Morty didn't know if he could take it this time, and he could feel his resolve crumbling underneath his feet despite how desperately he was trying to look indifferent to it all.

Rick was waiting for the next onslot of rage-induced words that were sure to come barreling out of Morty's mouth. He waited with fire glazing over his eyes, pretty much _daring_ the younger to continue.

But the words never came.

Instead, he watched as Morty seemed to brake apart in a way that he'd never seen before. It was... fascinating to watch, but it also caused a heavy weight to drop in his stomach.

However still trying to keep a straight face, still trying to look like he wasn't at all affected by what Rick had said, the teen couldn't stop the flow of tears that fell from his eyes and down his cheeks. He couldn't keep it together this time. Fuck, he tried, but he just couldn't.

Rick's expression instantly changed from angry to a mixture between regret, shock, and worry, and he found himself reflexively reaching out for the teen.

"M-Morty, I-I..."

Morty flinched away from him before shoving Rick back. He sniffled, trying to hold back a sob that threatened to force its way out of his lungs.

Rick stumbled a bit, his mouth moving, but no words would come out. Morty couldn't look at him, and instead stared at a fixed spot on the wall behind Rick. His fists were no longer clenched, and hung loosely at his sides. Rick could see his hands trembling.

Stiffly, Morty turned away from him, his hands reaching up to wipe his eyes as he unwillingly let a soft sob slip past his lips. He felt so humiliated, now. He couldn't believe he was crying over this.

In fact, Morty couldn't remember a time in his life where he had actually ever cried in front of Rick before. It was something that he told himself he would never do, because he knew Rick would make fun of him for doing it. Crying was something Rick thought was stupid and pointless because it got you nowhere. And now that he'd broken that promise to himself, to never let Rick see him like this, he felt completely and entirely humiliated and embarrassed and so, _so_ alone. He really was alone if Rick didn't care about him.

If Rick didn't care, then that meant no one did.

Desperate to get away from Rick in this very moment, he clumsily stumbled over to the corner of the room. It was the furthest from Rick he could get in this stupid fucking room, and he sunk to the floor, sitting with crossed legs so he could use them as arm rests for his elbows. His shoulders hitched with each quiet sob that forced its way out, and he covered his face with his hands as shame swept over him. He hated that Rick was seeing this. He hated that he was so weak and useless right now, proving that the old man was right. He just wanted to hide and be out of his sight. The last thing he wanted was for Rick to continue looking at him as he pretty much had a mental breakdown.

Rick hesitated before moving to stand in front of Morty. He didn't mean any of those things he said. He was just so... angry. He only said all of that stuff because his ego was bruised. But he took it too far, he knows now. He had called Morty stupid on more than one occasion, and rightfully so, but he had never said it to him with such hatred and anger in his voice. Fuck, Rick remembers being yelled at as a kid. It's terrifying when someone bigger and older than you yells, especially if it's someone you look up to so much. It's just a fact of life, and he not only hurt Morty, but he probably scared the shit out of him too.

The kid didn't even do anything wrong... he was right, after all. Rick had been wrong, and Morty had been right.

 _'What the hell is wrong with me?'_ Rick thought. He felt like his stomach was twisting into knots. He let what he said to Morty replay in his mind a few times, regret and self-hatred filling up inside of him. Did those words really just come out of his mouth? He hadn't meant to make Morty cry... god, had he ever even see the kid cry before? _'No, idiot, you haven't. You really fucked up this time, Sanchez. You're the piece of shit, not Morty.'_

He stood as still as a statue for a moment before he snapped out of it, forcing his brain to work along with his mouth. "L-Look, Morty, I-"

"Don't."

"Morty..."

"Rick. _Please._ "

Morty still wouldn't look at him.

"Morty, l-look at me."

Morty shakes his head, still refusing to look at his grandfather. He squeezed his eyes shut and put his hands over his ears. He didn't want to look, let alone _talk_ to Rick. He was too humiliated for that. It was just all too much. Why couldn't he just leave him alone?

Rick felt his mouth go dry. What was this? Was he nervous? When the fuck was he ever nervous? "I-I... I-I'm..." Rick was struggling to get his words out. He wanted to apologize, but it had been so long since he had actually apologized to anyone before. He felt almost like he was malfunctioning.

There was a pause where no one spoke.

"What, Rick..?" Morty's voice was surprisingly toneless. If Rick couldn't see the look on his face, he would have thought he didn't have emotions. But that... _look_ on his face. That broken, betrayed, defeated look on his face spoke so much more than someone's tone of voice ever could. "What m-more could you possibly have to say to m-me?"

Once again, Rick found his mouth wordlessly moving. He'd never seen Morty like this before; he didn't even think it was possible for him to be like this. The teen was always so optimistic, cheerful, and giggly. He'd seen him go from nearly dying, to laughing at some stupid pun about cats within the very same _hour._

Rick didn't know what to fucking say. He was speechless. He'd really fucked up this time. He really... _really..._ screwed this up.

He mindlessly reached for his flask, only to remember that he didn't even have his lab coat right now. The fucking natives confiscated it, and now he was alcohol-less, and he didn't like it. He really needed a drink right now. All this emotional stuff was stressing him out because it had been so long since he'd actually cared about someone.

Morty was the one and only person he actually genuinely cared about. He couldn't bring himself to really care about Beth, his very own daughter, despite trying to at least. He did somewhat care for her. He didn't really want to see her hurt, but he wouldn't do much, if anything at all, if she did get hurt. It was the same for Summer. (He could give a rats ass about Jerry.)

At some point in his life, he'd been in love with a woman named Diane, Morty's grandmother, but that was so long ago that Rick hardly even remembers what that felt like. He'd cared for Unity, but only because he needed her like some kind of security blanket. Their relationship had been toxic, and it wasn't good for either of them. It wasn't ever really love though, was it? It was sex, drugs, and an unhealthy escape.

But Morty? For some reason he found himself fixated on the damn kid. And it wasn't just a... familial thing. It was something more than that. And he hated himself for it. He cared about Morty, and he loved him. He loved him more than he really should— more than any grandpa should ever love their grandkid.

And he was such an abusive, violent, vulgar piece of shit, and he hated that Morty looked up to him so much. He couldn't bring himself to just... _leave,_ though. He knew that the disgusting thoughts that roamed behind everything else should have been the first sign to leave. He should have left when he realize he was such a piece of shit, and was probably ruining Morty's life. But he knew that he was pretty much all Morty had, and even if Morty did have other people, he was too selfish to leave anyway.

He needed Morty. Not just for the brainwaves; that was only a small benefit. He needed Morty for so much more than that. The kid kept his head in straight, and pulled the breaks for him when things started to go haywire. Morty kept him sane like no one else could.

But today, he'd completely disregarded him. Morty had every right in the world to snap at him. Lately, Rick _had_ been kind of being a dick to him. He felt that they were starting to get too close for comfort. He found himself enjoying Morty's presence more and more each day, and he started to count down the minutes until he'd get home from school each day so they could hang out. Their friendship was growing, and they became so _close._ Things had started to become extremely enjoyable between them, and when Rick realized that... it's almost like he couldn't function anymore because of the guilt that pilled up on top of him.

Getting close to Morty was dangerous territory, because... what if he let something slip? What if he was really drunk one day and hanging with Morty, and decided to act upon his feelings? Something like that would completely scare the boy away. He'd lose him, and Rick wouldn't be able to cope with that.

But now he was just hurting him. He was hurting Morty, and hurting Morty like that... it was a fucking terrible thing for him to do, and Rick was starting to really regret it. It was unfair to Morty. He really fucked up, and took it too far. He let himself get frustrated in his efforts to push Morty away.

Rick took a breath, turning to look at the single cot that was place in another corner of the room. Sullenly, and regretfully, Rick finally spoke. "I'm sorry, Morty."

There was another a tense silence that filled the room.

Morty looked up at his grandfather through his tears, taking in his hunched over form. He almost looked... sad? Regretful? There was a far-off look in his eyes, and he wouldn't meet Morty's gaze. It seemed the roles of who could and couldn't look at the other had been reversed. And then he noticed that Rick's hands were trembling slightly, and his breathing seemed to be quick.

Confusion slammed through him. Did Rick really just apologize to him? It had to be an act. _It had to be_. There's no way in hell Rick would ever apologize to anyone. At least, he would never mean it. Rick probably didn't mean it... he could be quite the actor when he wanted. "...D-don't lie, Rick..."

Morty's words were almost inaudible, but Rick had heard them. He felt his heart shatter inside of him, and a dizziness almost had him swaying where he stood. Morty didn't believe him, but Rick couldn't blame him.

He felt his heart start to twist inside of him, and he dragged his feet until he reached the cot. Slowly, he sat down on it.

He really fucked this up.

... He wouldn't have believed himself either if the roles had been reversed.

 ** _Authors note: Hope you enjoyed! More chapters coming soon!_**


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